Pacific Rising

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Pacific Rising Page 7

by John W Dennehy


  Missiles sailed past the creature and detonated in the rough waves, while others struck the beast in the belly and chest. Explosions lit up the dreary sky.

  Then, several 120mm rounds pounded into the creature, digging holes into its heavily plated hide. The Kaiju roared in pain, and then stepped onto shore, uninhibited by the attack. Heavy footsteps thundered into the ground. Another roar, but this one in rage.

  Hira contemplated the next order, struggling between getting off another volley of ordnance, or retreating to regroup.

  The Kaiju closed the distance fast, taking prodigious steps towards the line of tanks. A trail of flames scattered across the ground behind him. Bits of burning oil cast off its legs and shed from the long tail, as it whipped back and forth.

  Small fenced-in industrial areas with outbuildings and parked cars lay between the approaching monster and the line of defense. Hira ordered another assault on the creature. The tank commanders followed his order and instructed their crews to load the cannons. All the missile crews readied for another launch.

  “This time… fire every missile you have loaded on the carriers,” Hira said.

  The missile crew commanders responded in the affirmative.

  “Tank commanders…” Hira called into the comm-link. “Fire when ready.”

  A volley of 120mm cannons erupted, hurling rounds at the creature. The barrage was followed by intermittent bursts, as various cannons were loaded and fired at different speeds. Round after round found purchase burrowing into the thick hide.

  The Kaiju stopped in its tracks and bellowed in agony. A round or two had passed through to the creature’s underbelly.

  Hira realized the beast was vulnerable. It swung its head from side to side, trying to shake off the pain. A shrill yowl carried toward the defensive line, along with the howling wind, sending pinpricks through Hira’s ears.

  “Fire all missiles!” Hira yelled.

  The tubes erupted from the hillside, shooting missiles at the creature.

  “Reload and fire all cannons,” Major Hira commanded.

  “Shouldn’t we evacuate?” said a crew commander.

  “Missile crews retreat,” Hira said. “Tank crews remain steady.”

  “Understood, sir,” tank commanders replied, but many sounded unsteady.

  The task at hand wasn’t something they’d ever trained to do in combat. Hira expected them to lose confidence. But not much stood before the advancing beast and the city. “Fire when ready!” Major Hira barked.

  Soon after he’d given the command, tanks rocked back and forth, as the cannons erupted with rounds homed in on the creature.

  The Kaiju charged on the perimeter as the latest volley struck home. Another wail of pain emitted from the Kaiju’s muzzle while it writhed about in suffering.

  This time, the creature did not falter. Monstrous steps marched it closer.

  Sharp claws protruded from each foot, measuring the size of a dump truck, digging into the earth to stabilize the creature. Each step brought the Kaiju nearer to the fortified position, crushing fences and cars, and igniting the outbuildings that didn’t get crushed into matchsticks.

  Everything around the Kaiju lit up in a blaze of fire. Smoke and billowing flames wafted through the deluge. And detritus of mass destruction trailed in its wake.

  “Retreat!” Hira screamed in panic.

  “Retreat! Retreat!” the tank commanders echoed.

  Hira slipped inside his tank and sealed the hatch. “Move out!” he yelled to his tank commander, even though the operator was already in motion.

  The creature pounded up the hillside and stepped on a tank. Armor-plated metal caved in like a tin can. Screams flooded the cabin and transmitted over the communications link. Hira pictured his troopers being crushed to death, as the weight of a building pressed on the tank, bones snapping and lungs pushed in, asphyxiating the soldiers.

  Hira tried to shake off the ghastly image as his operator maneuvered their tank. Another tank was decimated under the monster’s footstep. Horrific cries of agony spread over the communications network.

  Operators of various tanks attempted flight at the same time. Some of them backed up, while others turned into the path of oncoming tanks. Hira watched through the viewing scope in awe. The panicked maneuvers caused them to collide with each other. Metal clanging into grinding tracks echoed across the battle scene.

  Tanks piled up everywhere. A disastrous sight, the retreat was anything but organized. Hira realized they’d never been trained for this sort of contingency, and the disorganization lead to unnecessary deaths.

  The creature stomped after them mercilessly. A giant foot came down hard and caved in three tanks caught up on each other. Flames whisked into the grey sky.

  The clamor of soldiers being crushed resonated across the communications system.

  The pileup kept them all from dying at once. Distorted metal and the Kaiju moving after other victims left crew members in tanks with hope. Then, a patch of fire caught on a broken diesel fuel line and erupted in a ball of flames.

  An explosion shook Hira’s tank, followed by the horrific screams of soldiers burning alive.

  He glanced into the viewfinder and immense scales came into view.

  “Move!” Hira screamed. “The Kaiju is directly upon us.”

  “Roger,” the operator grunted.

  Hira felt the tank speed up. It collided with another tank, bouncing off, but kept rolling. Their tank pulled away from the creature, gaining distance. He breathed easier, but then realized the Kaiju had focused on their tank.

  Attracted to the tank’s flight, the beast stomped after them in pursuit.

  Ten

  Penton stared at the video screen in disbelief. He couldn’t accept what he’d watched was real. All his instincts told him it was true, though. The concern on Admiral Keyes’ face, and the Brass sitting around the table. Everything suggested a dire situation.

  The admiral came back on screen. “Figured a picture was worth a thousand words,” Keyes said, shaking his head.

  Colonel Tomkins took a deep breath and smirked. He appeared skeptical and spoke first. “Rear Admiral Keyes… have you been able to verify the film footage we’ve just seen?”

  “No, gentlemen and ladies, we have not.” Keyes shrugged.

  “Well, have you made direct contact with Japan’s Self-Defense Forces?”

  “As I reported to you earlier,” Keyes said. “We have not been able to make direct verbal communications with the Self-Defense Forces. However, we did track a large mass headed toward Tokyo earlier today.”

  “Why didn’t anyone do anything about it?” Colonel Tomkins said.

  “The creature was picked up as a whale on the sonar.”

  “Understandable,” Colonel Tomkins said. “But are we sure it’s even real?”

  Admiral Keyes clenched his teeth and paused, obviously tired of being questioned. The entire room sensed his frustration. No one dared speak another word. Keyes sat back in a posh leather sofa. Aboard a massive warship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean during a hurricane, he wasn’t a paper pusher. Everyone knew he had come up the hard way, starting as an enlisted sailor. And everyone in the command center at MCAS Futenma waited for him to settle down.

  Penton wondered when the gamesmanship would pass, so they could get to the plan and explain why he was there.

  “We’ve had to fall back on communications through a cellphone,” Admiral Keyes finally said. “But I’ve spoken with General Yoshi. And he assures me that Tokyo is in grave danger.”

  “Might be so,” Colonel Tomkins pressed. “But from what?”

  “That fucking creature tearing up the harbor. What else?”

  “What the hell is that thing supposed to be?”

  “We don’t have a clue,” Keyes admitted. “The creature appears to be indestructible and has taken everything that’s been thrown at it.”

  “Seems to have suffered a few good blows, though.” This from Lieutenan
t Colonel Jeb Brady, commanding officer of the Flying Tigers.

  Keyes nodded in agreement. He smiled, apparently glad to have some support. “We expect to be able to take the thing down… before it does too much damage.”

  “How are Japan’s Self-Defense Forces capabilities?” said Colonel Tomkins.

  “The creature rolled through them like they were standing still,” Keyes replied. “Just like you saw in the video.”

  Penton watched Colonel Tomkins shake his head and chuckle.

  “What are their backup capabilities?” Lieutenant Colonel Brady asked.

  Now Admiral Keyes was shaking his head.

  “That good?” Colonel Tomkins said.

  “As you saw, the creature walked right over their tank and missile crews. The Japan Air Self-Defense wasn’t successful, and we don’t expect too much more from them.”

  “Why not?” Colonel Tomkins said. “Is there a lack of readiness on their part?”

  “The storm has made takeoff and operation of their jets standing ready for an emergency almost non-operational.”

  Colonel Tomkins nodded, understanding.

  “We’ve got an LHP off the coast of South Korea,” Lieutenant Colonel Brady said. “She’s got full amphibious force readiness. Two thousand Marines and fighting vehicles, plus a squadron of attack helicopters for close-combat support.”

  Admiral Keyes shook his head. “The ship will take too long to maneuver around Japan and get into place. Plus, the type of approach you suggest isn’t the most effective.”

  “What’s the plan?” Colonel Tomkins snapped at beating around the bush.

  “The plan is to send a contingency of Harriers from Okinawa… fully loaded with the best and most appropriate ordnance.”

  Penton finally got the picture why he and Captain Able were in the room.

  ****

  After the meeting, Penton and Kate headed upstairs and stepped outside into the pouring rain. The driver sat in the van waiting for them. Dashing across the pavement, Kate slid the door open, and they climbed in back.

  Penton noticed the concerned look on Kate’s face. He reached for her hand to provide reassurance. Kate didn’t pull away. Instead, she massaged his fingers, a tender touch, when she was the one facing a crisis. Kate had just watched the creature take down two jets.

  “Harriers are more stable in storms like this…” Penton offered.

  She nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.

  Harriers are capable of vertical-lift takeoffs and landings. They do not require a runway, similar to helicopters. Penton figured the Brass wanted to use Harriers in the event a sudden landing was required, either due to the storm, or the monster.

  “You’ll do just fine,” Penton said. “You’re one of the best pilots in the world.”

  “Never flown in winds like this before.” She shook her head.

  “The Japanese Air Self-Defense jets handled the winds. They just misjudged the creature, and they didn’t have the best ordnance.”

  “I’m sure you’ll take care of that.” Kate forced a laugh.

  “We’ll make sure your squad is well-equipped.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Drop her off at the barracks,” Penton said to the driver.

  “What then?” the driver said.

  “Take me to my place, so I can get my Jeep. Then swing back over and pick her up.”

  “Sure thing,” the driver said.

  “By the time you’re ready,” Penton said to Kate, “I’ll be at the MALS-36 hangar.”

  Kate nodded, getting the picture. Then, he glanced out the window and noticed the storm had picked up. Gusting winds blew stronger than before.

  An ominous feeling overcame him. Penton wondered what they were really up against.

  ****

  The driver dropped Penton off at the staff non-commissioned officer barracks. Penton ran inside and grabbed his keys and a Marine Corps-issue poncho. He tossed his cover on the dining room table, then donned the poncho and headed outside.

  Wind pounded hard, and he fought to reach the Jeep. It started right up and he shifted the manual transmission into gear and then headed toward the hangar. His lightweight vehicle swayed from the heavy gusts and teetered a couple of times.

  Penton wondered how a jet could stay in the air. The thought of losing Kate due to the weather concerned him and he didn’t know why.

  Arriving at the hangar, he found the ordnance shop shutting down. Penton spotted the corporal who’d transported the injured Marine to Navy Hospital. Alvarez sat behind a metal desk scribbling on a form. Dedicated, she was the last Marine left in her unit. Everyone had gone home to weather out the storm.

  “We’ve got a serious situation on our hands,” Penton said to her.

  “What do you need?” She grinned at him.

  “Call Top Anderson. And get your five best ordnance personnel assembled here pronto. This is a high-priority mission that just came down.”

  “Will do!” She reached for the phone. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’ll be up at the ordnance dump, starting to get things ready.” Penton turned to leave the shop. “I’ll call in from there… once your people are mustered.”

  Alvarez smiled and picked up the phone, calling in unit members.

  Penton headed back to his office and fetched the keys for the build-up area. He pulled them out of his desk drawer and then headed out the rear hatch into the rain. He trotted over the gravel parking area as rain battered the hood of his poncho. Penton couldn’t hear anything but the storm.

  He climbed into his Jeep and shut the door. Penton pulled from the parking lot and headed to the ordnance dump.

  A moment of relief slipped over him after climbing in the vehicle, out of the elements. Penton thought about how Marines spent countless hours training in horrible weather, and many battles were fought in severe conditions.

  There wasn’t any use in complaining or wishing for better weather. Suffer in silence, he thought.

  He drove down the stormy roads and rolled up to the fenced-in compound. The guard shack was empty and the gate chained shut. He looked around but didn’t see the private on duty. Penton shook his head and glanced uphill. The slick-sleever was nowhere to be seen.

  A narrow driveway led up a slight hillside and then wound into a covered overhang. Storage lockers lined both sides of the area, like pulling up to a gas station. Penton suspected the guard had taken cover under the truck-port, but the storage lockers concealed the young Marine from view.

  Penton unlocked the gates and swung them open. He drove through slowly, putting on his headlights to alert the guard. The last thing he needed was to get shot by a jumpy boot.

  He eased around until the Jeep approached the concrete landing. A silhouette stood up from a palette of inert rocket warheads.

  The private shouldered his M-16 and aimed at the approaching vehicle.

  Penton shut off the headlights and turned on his parking lights, hoping the young Marine would recognize the Jeep. Aviation Ordnance wings served as the front license plate.

  But the Marine held the rifle ready to fire. He slowly walked diagonally across the front of the vehicle with the barrel trained on the driver. Penton pulled back his poncho hood and the private stared at him wide-eyed.

  “You can lower the fucking rifle, now,” Penton said.

  “Sorry, Master Gunnery Sergeant,” the private replied, meekly. “I had no idea it was you.”

  Penton shook his head and pulled forward under the protective cover. “You could have figured that out at the guard shack, if you’d been down by the gate.” Penton pulled up and maneuvered close to a stanchion. He hopped out of the Jeep.

  “Well, I was just walking the premises,” the private continued.

  Penton flicked a switch and powerful lights flooded the covered area.

  “Sergeant Morales told us… to make a pass through the lot a few times a day.”

  “Don’t doubt he instructed
you that way.”

  “Sure did,” the private affirmed.

  Penton quickly headed to a storage locker. “But it didn’t look to me like you were walking the grounds. Looked as though you were sleeping on post.”

  “Just up here checking on things…”

  “Save it.”

  Penton twisted a key in the padlock.

  “But—”

  Penton waved him off. “We don’t have time for this nonsense right now. Get over here and help me lift this box to the ground.”

  The private set down his rifle and walked over to the storage locker. Penton swung the door wide-open and reached inside. He slid the box to the edge of a shelf. A wooden crate, it weighed a great deal.

  “Be careful not to drop it,” Penton said, as the private strained to lift it.

  They maneuvered the box a short distance, and then set it down on the concrete. A thud reverberated across the build-up area as the crate smacked the ground. Penton pulled a face, then cracked the lid open.

  He peered inside at the green warheads. The inert warheads used for training were blue and solid inside. Penton reached into the box and pulled out a warhead. He felt the contents shift inside. All the active warheads had explosive material cased inside the metal head. Pointed at the nose, and threaded on the end, so it could be screwed into a rocket-motor tube.

  Penton planned to load each fighter with two rocket pods, capable of housing up to seven rockets each. The squadron would send five planes, so he needed enough to fill ten pods. “We’ll need seventy warheads.”

  The private nodded, understanding. But he had a concerned look on his face. “What’s this all about?”

  “Can’t get into it now,” Penton said. “We’ve got too much to do.”

  “Okay, sure.” But the kid looked worried, like he knew a conflict would break out.

  “We’ll need all of the boxes in that locker.”

  They lowered each box to the ground and lined them up. A truck would roll up and the team of Marines from Top Anderson’s unit would load them.

  Penton fished around the storage locker and snagged a bunch of cartridge activating devices. He carefully placed them into a crate. The CADs were round, metallic rocket components, about the size of a silver dollar and a half-inch deep.

 

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