Unidentified US Military Installation
Las Vegas,Nevada
1947

“Sir, if I may be so bold, what purpose does Roswell play in this operation?” Private Richard Lewis eyed the map sprawled out on the table before them. A uniformed officer adjacent to him took a puff of his cigar and tilted his brimmed hat to the side.

“Simple’m’boy! We’re gonna put on a little show!” With an extended wooden pointer he snapped to a position on the map near Roswell New Mexico. “Right here!” He whipped the pointer across the map to a location close to Las Vegas Nevada. “Meanwhile the real action will be going on right here!”

“The press has been snooping around where it don’t belong. Getting closer and closer. Last month’s little escapade turned a lot of eyes our way.” A middle aged officer sitting across the table took a drink from a small glass which contained a tan colored liquid.

“Ah just said that boy! Open yer ears!” The gruff older, bearded man stood straight, positioning his cigar to the corner of his mouth, wafting smoke all over the crowded meeting room.

“M’ah good S’uh. Ah have many a doubt of the probability of this plan. Fu’th’ah’mo’ah, Ah cahr-ry res-ah-vation concernin’ you’ah ability to prop’ahly transpo’t a load of this magnitude! How can Ah be su’ah this payload won’t damage m’ah rail lines?” An older man dressed in a white suit, wearing a Stetson removed his glasses and placed them to the side, eyeing the map. A bony finger shoved a small figurine of a transport vehicle out of the way.

“Mr. Avery we do not require your trust, simply the use of your lines!” An older man seated across the table, balding with classes and thick eye brows spoke as he slammed the table.

“W’ah just yer cargo alone is o’va 550 tons! That doesn’t take into con’sider’ashun personnel! We don’t happen to po’sess ‘ah vhe’icle capable of such prop’ah’ustrous pay load.” The elderly gentlemen spoke, his velvety southern drawl rolled out of his mouth like butter on hot bread. There was an amused expression across his grey features.

“Mr Avery I assure you we have taken every precaution to ensure this pay load will be delivered to its destination intact, unharmed and undetected.” The uniformed officer took a puff from his cigar and whipped his pointer across the table to a small model set on a rail line.

“My concerns lay in the safety of m’ah rail lines and m’ah locomotives, not the condition of you’ah payload upon arrival!” The older Mr. Avery’s lips curled into a coy grin. “Even if ah did lend you per’mishon t’e use m;ah lines. How do you intend t’e transpo’t something so big?” Mr. Avery’s eyes narrowed as he ran his hand the top of his white marble cane, sitting down slowly.

“This sir is the behemoth! It has a wide load clearance height of over 86 feet! 42 feet clearance width wise and can handle over 1700 tons of cargo. Her 8 connecting doors are removable…not only will the pay load fit…but there’ll be room’t spare.” The officer stood straight, a victorious grin formed as he crossed his arms.

“Can ya’ll or can ya’ll not assu’ah me m’ah engines and m’ah lines will not be damaged by you’ah payload?”Mr. Avery sat back in his chair, pulling on his black suspenders and stroking the brim of his hat.

“Mr.Avery…” The uniformed officer began.

“Please, call me Lemuel!” The southern gentlemen snapped his suspenders and pushed his chair back on its hind legs.

“Lemuel…your lines will remain intact, and your engines will not be damaged.” The gruff uniformed officer puffed out a cloud of smoke, a stone expression. “Private Lewis will fill you in on the details Lemuel.” The gruff man took a step back as the shorter Private Lewis took front.

“The Caravan will leave Camp Pendleton at 0900 hours, from there they will meet up with the ‘behemoth’. Your line will take us to the Nevada facility…it should take 10 hours…with a full 550 ton payload…at an average speed of 40 mph.” Private Lewis looked towards the white suited man.

“That’s assumin’ you’ah little contraption will indeed hold up, which Ah have m’ah doubts, Ah’ll have ya’ll know.” The robust man stood, slamming his hands down on the table. “Well then, Gentlemen, so long as ya’ll can put you’ah coin whe’ah you’ah mouths ahr, ya’ll have m’ah coop’ahration. But Ah’d be a fool not to ask what this precious cah’go you ahr so desperate to move is.” His eyes lit up as he ran his fingers along the edge of his long moustache, twirling the hairs briskly, his belly extended as he rocked on his feet.

The military personal in the room eyed one another, there was an uncomfortable silence. Eventually the tall gruff uniformed officer approached the refined gentlemen.

“Classified information, you understand Mr. Avery?”

“Classified indeed. Ahl’right, have you’ah fun then. But if anythin’ happens, Ah will hold ya’ll personally responsible, and Mist’ah. Gresen, Lemuel Avery always collects on his debts!”Lemuel pointed his finger at the uniformed officer. After a silent stalemate he stood and extended his hand. “So, we have an accord!”

Gresen extended his hand and the two shook hard before pulling away. “Private Lewis will escort you to the secretary’s office where the paper work will be completed.” The uniformed officer motioned towards the meeting room doors in what was a clear, if polite, dismissal. Private approached and led Lemuel Avery out before the other man could say a word.

Gresen took another long smoke, as an awkward silence filled the room. Through the cloud of smoke he looked towards the other officers sitting at the round table. “The Nevada facilities are top of the line, up to date. Not only will the payload be safer form detection there. But the Nevada desert will allow for over 65,000 square kilometers of free space for the payload to be properly exercised.”

“Should prevent another incident like the incident last month…” The older balding man spoke carefully.

“Indeed.”

“Something doesn’t make sense Darren.” Pryvani spoke, cutting him off from his story. Her fork cut easily into the warm brown dessert, the piece she pulled away could have fed Darren, with left overs to spare.

“What’s that Pearleanni?” Darren watched with fascination as the regal, elegant looking lady took in the simple mouthful of dessert. To her it had been but a small bite, to him it was damn near the size of a Black Forrest Cake!

“Pryvani…and Darren if all this Roswell stuff happened over 10 years ago…and you are only a hair under 5…” Pryvani grinned.

“Lemuel Avery was ma gran’pappy.” Darren took another bite from the opposite end Pryvani was working on. He had not managed to make but a dent in the mountain of dessert, while Pryvani herself had worked away over half of her section. “And it happened 66 years ago…and I am 31 not 4!” Darren grumbled. Titan measurements made no damn sense, and it pissed him off!

“Right, of course.” She said with a small smile. The heiress carefully examined her guest, taking a drink from her long stemmed glass before speaking. “Darren as much as your family history interests me, when do you come into all of this?” Her tone was amused, but scratched around for the information she craved. Her eyes fell on Darren, she did not fail to notice his fascination with her. Cleverly she scooped up a keik piece larger than he was. Keeping her regal poise she easily fit the piece into her mouth, washing it down with a drink from her glass. This caused Darren to squirm slightly.

“Hold yer damn horses then…ah wus just gett’n t’e that part!” Darren grumbled, when he was angry his southern drawl was forced out. “Christ ya made me fer’get where ah wuz!”

“I believe…” Pryvani took another oversized bite, slowly, carefully, to show off just how easy it was, “a little place called Area 41?”

“51…”Darren scoffed; he wiggled in his seat, feeling rather unnerved watching how easily the giantess handled food larger than him.

Area 51 Nevada Desert 2015

Master Sergeant Darren Avery crawled across the cool evening sand, the sun had started to set, and his demeanor had grown sour. 6 hours and they had not caught their target. Three soldiers dressed in camo desert gear crawled after. One of them was handling a radio.

“Gat’danget! How the hell’ve we not found her yet?” Darren’s rough coarse whisper was more of a hell than anything else.

“Echo 2 to Tango leader…echo 2 to tango leader do you copy?” The soldier to Darren’s right spoke into the radio, keeping his voice as low as he could. There was a slight pause before the radio came to life.

“Tango leader I copy you Eco 2.” A female voice spoke through the comm.

“Hostile is not at cords suggested. Nothing but sand.” The soldier took another look around. “Over.”

The radio was silent.

“Orders sir?” A dark skinned soldier crawled up next to Darren; resting his rifle in front of him.

Darren was silent for a good long while, his eyes scanned carefully, calculating.

“Gat’danget!” Darren pounded the ground with his fist. “Second dang time this week!” Darren pushed off the dirty sand. He stumbled into a rock face on his left as he tried vainly to keep his boots from sinking in the shifting ground beneath him. Once he’d regained his footing, he took a long drink from his flask, never taking his eyes off the large dunes in front of him.

“We’ve been at this for 6 hours sir…” The other soldiers followed suite and all stood. The dark skinned soldier spoke up. “I think we should…”

“6 hours and it’ll be another bloody 6 hours if ah say so! Quit yer whining and ger’er done!” Darren ripped off his helmet and threw it violently at the rock that was protruding out of the sand.

“Sarge, she doesn’t win them all you know. Give the girl a break…” The soldier with the radio set the device at his side and approached Darren. “Give her credit Sarge, she’s really starting to get good at this…maybe…you know every once in a while…it wouldn’t hurt to let her know?”

Darren sent the soldier a surly glare and tromped over to pick his helmet up. “Hell if ah’m gunna let that kid’s ego explode any more’n it already has!” Darren took a flare gun from his large cargo pocket and pointed it up, his finger pulled the trigger and with a ‘pop’ a flair exploded into the sky, visible for miles around.

“Call it Reese.” He spoke in a low, defeated tone.

“Echo 2 to tango leader…call it…over.” He lowered the radio.

“Roger….” The response came.

“Alright ya twat…come on out…where ever the hell yer hiding!” Darren shouted…there was silence.

“Think she heard you?” Reese spoke, looking around cautiously.

“She damn well better…if I we have to call in the big guns that girl’s gonna get my foot up her arse one way or another!” Darren cursed, cupping his hands over his mouth and shouting “Get on out girlie! You win!”

Reese looked over to the dark skinned soldier and whispered. “Maybe she went AWOL…”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” The other soldier responded.

Darren waited for another full minute count before storming over to Reese. “Radio the base…tell them the Kid’s gone AWOL again…we need…..”

Darren’s rant was interrupted by a violent quake in the land. The soldiers braced themselves against whatever was near as a wall of sand lifted up not 100 meters away from them. Private Reese fell to his rear and crab walked back at the sight. The tan soldier kept his footing but backed away a few paces. Darren crossed his arms and angrily approached the growing wall of sand.

The turbulent sands calmed, out from the chaos emerged the slender figure of a woman, standing 114 feet tall with deep brown eyes and matching hair. Her small cute nose sat in the center of her face, to accent her thin pink lips. Her eyebrows were bushy and matched the color of her hair. She had rosy red cheeks in contrast to her cream peach colored skin. Her shoulders were small, with a longer neck in proportion to her head. Her face was adorned with freckles along her cheeks. She had a youthful look to her. Her limbs in proportionate to the size of her scrawny form suggested she would be quite short had she been scaled down to the size of those around her.

“How the fuck does a mile high twat hide in the middle of the fuggen desert?” His voice broke into a hearty laugh as he approached the chaotic turbulent sands.

“Where all eyes would never think to look!” The young woman’s voice was loud and delightful, her eyes lit up as she basked in the savory sweet taste of her own victory!

“Yer a sneaky devil kid! Yer getting good at this.” Darren laughed, pulling a cigar out of his pocket and biting off the end.

The imposing figure ran her hands through her hair, showering Darren with a torrent of sand. After her long hair was cleared of the mess, she gave her whole body a quick shake, patting down her shirt and her legs. “ppszzt…pppfft…sand in my mouth.” The girl looked down, slowly crouching as Darren approached. She sat back on her feet and set her hand down before her, palm down.

“You always tell me to think on my feet…well there ya go!” She watched as the small soldier stepped into her palm. Once he was secure she lifted him to her right shoulder and tipped her hand slightly, allowing him to slide down into place.

“Heh, might be some hope fer ya yet kid.” Darren lit his cigar and sat cross legged, leaning against the girl’s neck.

“Bleh…must you smoke that thing around me? It smells like ass!” The girl looked at the remaining soldiers; a bright smile crossed her simple features. “Do the rest of you want a lift back?”

Reese backed up slightly, his eyes wide. He had just transferred to this locale, and was not yet used to the unique personality that dwelt within. “N…No thanks Miss Erin…I…I’ll walk.” He tried to smile.

“It’s Eyrn…and are you sure? It’s quite a way…and it’s getting late?” She winked, her lips curled into a wry grin. “Coyotes come out at night ya know?” She motioned to her out stretched hand, and the tan solder that had already climbed in and was sitting cross legged with his rifle across his lap.

“…I..I’m good…I’ll rendezvous with Tango team and take the jeep back.” He half smiled, stepping back.

“Your call wolf bait!” Eyrn stood and set the other soldier on her free shoulder. “Everyone buckled in?”

“Jus’git us back in one piece ya over grown taxi.” Darren chuckled as he took another puff from his cigar and blew it towards Eyrn.

Eyrn let out a forced cough and covered her nose and mouth with her free hand. “I’d be able to walk faster if I wasn’t choking on the smell of dirty ass!”

“Oh hush up.”Darren grumbled.

“Are you always this grumpy when you lose?” Eyrn mocked his grumble with one of her own, as she began the long walk back to base.

“Ah’m nat grumpy.” Darren grumbled.

“Ya know Darren…if you LOST…logically that must mean…”

“Shaddap!” Darren snapped.

“Well I’m just saying…when there is a loser there must be a…?”

“Fugg’off twat!” He mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

“No need to be snappy, if you don’t want to admit it you don’t have to.” She cooed in a voice that was more condescending than comforting.

“Nothing to admit.” Darren defended.