Martin climbed down through the newly enlarged door in the tunnel just as the last rumblings from the passing train faded.
"Ok, lower it down." commanded Martin.
The one man rail cart was lowered by the small winch and Martin hefted it onto the tracks. The machine was little more than three wheels, a motor and brushes for the third rail. Martin climbed aboard and fed some power to the motor. The small rail cart accelerated easily and smoothly up to sixty miles per hour, and Martin held this speed all the way to the under water base. Just before he arrived at the platform, he stopped and dissembled the cart. He put the pieces into the maintenance tunnel and then climbed up onto the platform. Dusting off his Navy captain's uniform, he walked up the stairway and through the water tight door.
Martin went to the berthing compartment where the twin who matched his disguise was sleeping. Raising a short straw-like device, he aimed at the man's exposed neck and fired the tiny dart. This would make sure that he slept for a bit longer than wake up call. Martin then moved the guy into the lower bunk and carefully folded the blanket and straitened the sheet. He walked toward the officer's lounge while occasionally glancing at the over-head to see if he could spot any of the repeaters that he knew were there, but he could not see any of them. Martin relaxed on one of the couches and watched a TV program that was piped all the way from the Moffet field station. Before long it was time and he joined the remainder of the training class.
"Morning Roger" said Martin.
"Morning John. Ready for the big one ?" asked Roger.
"As ready as I will ever be. You ?"
"The same." replied Martin.
Martin handed his forged ID and a copy of his orders to the officer at the podium, who saluted and handed them back. Returning the salute, Martin walked confidently along the row of saucer shaped craft. At least he made large efforts to try and appear confident, for he was desperately trying not to imagine the interrogation he would face if he were to be caught. He formed up with the rest of the class, and the instructor stood in front of the group.
"Well gentlemen, today is the day of your first solo flight. I hope that you all come back in one piece. Captain Fredricks, you take number 43, Captain Jones, you take number 44 ..." continued the instructor.
Martin walked up to his craft and touched the small American flag with his rubber thumb print glove that triggered the sensor and caused the ramp to come down. He climbed up the ramp and took a seat in front of a small panel that closely resembled the one in the training class. He placed his hands into the panel and felt the gravetics lock onto his hands and hold them into place. The holographic display lit up with a three-dimensional view of the hanger and he watched as Rogers craft was towed towards the air lock. These craft were more than capable of moving through the base on their own power, but no one trusted the pilots to be 100 percent. Any small accident may fracture the sea wall and the ocean would flood the entire complex.
Soon Martin's craft was towed along the rows of other craft until it was through the massive air lock door.
Martin could see the rising water as it covered his craft and filled the compartment. The door above him slid back and he could see the cobalt blue of the open ocean water beyond the door.
With slight movements of his hands and fingers, Martin guided his craft out of the compartment and up through the ocean to the surface.
As Martin sped towards Roswell New Mexico, a loud voice came over the speakers mounted near his seat.
"What are you doing John, you are deviating from your flight plan. Return immediately!"
The short flight took no longer than a few moments. The UFO convention that was being held at Roswell on this day was in full swing.
Thousands of people were in attendance and most were wandering around the town as Martin flew over them, a hundred feet above the ground.
Before the Navy knew what was happening, Martin was walking down the ramp and loosing himself in the crowd that ran towards the craft after it landed and let down it's ramp.
Please put "Ron" in subject line or the email may be mistaken as junk mail and deleted.