Destiny's Daughter - Alien Mysteries Investigations PT4

Apologies for no instalment yesterday.
I'm having trouble with my wireless mouse.
I've just about got it under control, but it's still haphazard.

© A Sunderland 2011
“The idea that little grey aliens could possibly have offspring virtually indistinguishable from humans,” she scoffed.
“You seem quite certain of that.”
“Given the reported height and weight of these aliens, even a fully-grown female couldn’t possibly carry a human baby to full term,” she responded, logically.
“We know that from our examinations of specimens. Maybe they plant it in a captive woman after five or six months,” Langan suggested lightly.
“You can’t swap babies at that age!” Dawn said. “It’s a medical impossibility.”
“Maybe they’ve mastered the techniques,” Langan quipped.
“For one thing, the new host’s womb couldn’t―” She was jolted abruptly as the vehicle turned onto the field. “It couldn’t possibly expand to take a fetus that size,” she finished her augument.
“Then why do you think they’re carrying out so many experiments on humans?” Langan asked.
“Do you have any evidence they are?” she demanded.
“Maybe this spaceship is carrying their latest guinea pig.”
“What time did they shoot it down?” she asked, ignoring his last supposition as purely ludicrous.
“He didn’t tell me exactly but approximately four hours ago.”
“What direction did it come from?”
“South-westerly over Lake Michigan,” he reported.
“So probably a sightseeing trip,” she answered, feeling relieved.
“No. They’d chased it into commercial airspace. The missiles hit it over the lake then it turned back over land. Probably looking for―”
“Christ!” she exclaimed. “How could they let your puny aircraft get near them?”
“What?” he asked, startled by her outburst.
“Your aircraft are totally inferior to…” she bit her tongue and silently cursed herself.
“You almost sound like you’re talking for them,” Langan said, incredulously.
“What I’m trying to say,” Dawn stammered, “is that the velocity these craft would have to reach, from a vertical take off, to break out into space is phenomenal!” She threw her hands up in exasperation but the gesture was futile in the dark. “No fighter plane is capable of matching that,”
The Range Rover bumped to a halt.
“Maybe we got lucky and caught the thing during take-off,” said Langan as he opened his door.
Dawn turned to open her door. A sickly feeling inside quashed her reply. “Or landing,” she thought. “Damn it” she muttered under her breath. It was landing, she realized.
The wall of noise hit Dawn as she stepped from the car. The downdraft blew back her hair and her jacket billowed open, her blouse pushed tightly against her body. Through the wailing of sirens and the din of the helicopter rotors, she could here the wolf whistles and lewd remarks. She grabbed her jacket, buttoned it, folded her arms across her chest, and turned away, grateful not to be wearing a skirt.
She walked around the back of the vehicle to join Langan. “Do you think the public will believe that the military is here in force just for an aviation accident?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted. “We’ll get a senior air force general to deny that a top secret prototype war plane crashed here. Then the media will draw their own conclusions.”
“Pretty smart,” she said. “Getting them to believe a lie by telling the truth.”
“They’ll never see that one coming,” he smiled.