I haven't spoken about this in a long time. They told us not to. But I'm an old man now, and I know what I saw. People need to know that we aren't alone. It was March of 1967. I was an Airman First Class, working security police out in the middle of nowhere, Montana. My job was to guard the missile silos. We're talking about Minuteman nuclear missiles. The most powerful weapons on the face of the Earth, buried sixty feet under the wheat fields. It was a freezing cold night. Pitch black. You could see every star in the sky... until one of them started moving.
At first, I thought it was a satellite. But then it stopped. Satellites don't stop. It started zig-zagging across the sky, taking ninety-degree turns at speeds that would turn a human pilot into jelly. I radioed the other patrols, and they were seeing it too. Then it got closer. It wasn't a star anymore. It was a large, glowing orange-red oval. I know what I saw. And it wasn't making a sound. No jet wash. No rotor noise. Just this heavy, humming silence that you could feel in your teeth.
I picked up the phone to call the Launch Control Center underground. I needed to talk to the flight commander, Captain Salyer. I was screaming into the receiver. I told him, 'Sir, you have to get looking at this. It's right above the front gate.' The object was hovering directly over the silo fencing now. It was pulsing with this reddish glow. I asked the Captain what we should do, if we should engage. And that's when the klaxons started going off downstairs.
[ Story continues in the full game... ]