Pacific Rising

by John W Dennehy

“Right there.” Penton pointed to a magazine down the roadway.

  The driver repeated the operation, backing up to the doors. Penton hustled through the rain and unlocked them. Marines lined up behind him. Opening the doors, a bunker of cluster bombs filled the space.

  “We’re going to need six,” Penton said.

  “Aye, sir,” they sounded off again.

  Penton smiled. Never get Marine Corps boot camp out of their heads, he thought.

  Each CBU weighed five hundred pounds. The detail of Marines marched into the magazine and grabbed two steel poles. One of them was threaded at the end, and the other was smooth.

  They twisted the threaded end into the nose of the bomb then slid the smooth end of the other pole into a slot by the fins. A ridge on the smooth rod brought the insertion to a halt. Then, two Marines grabbed hold of each pole, and all four of them heaved the bomb from the floor. They shuffled forward, carrying it to the truck.

  Penton helped them lift the CBU onto the truck bed.

  Rain pelted the ordnance in the back of the truck. Penton thought about how troops tend to handle ordnance delicately. Yet once it gets loaded onto aircraft, the bombs and rockets are exposed to the elements, and shake around during takeoff. Ordnance gets bumped and jostled in flight, especially during combat.

  He stepped around to the cab and slid onto the bench seat. “One more stop,” Penton said to the driver.

  “Figured there’d be another.” The kid grinned and shifted into drive.

  “Need everything those birds can hold.”

  “Who are we striking against?”

  Penton shook his head. “You know better than to ask that question. Besides, you’ll know soon enough.”

  The driver mashed the gas pedal and sped the truck toward the next magazine. Penton bounced down from the truck and trotted over to the doors. He opened them wide and directed the Marines to a few munitions crates.

  Ammo cans held belts of ammunition for the GAU-12 Equalizer. A five-barrel 25 mm rotary Gatling-type aircraft machinegun. The weapons were stored in the cage back at the ordnance shop.

  “Grab as many of those as we can fit in the truck,” Penton instructed.

  “Yes, Master Gunnery Sergeant,” they barked.

  “Let me give you a hand.” Penton grabbed a can and felt the heft.

  They loaded the truck and locked the bunker up behind them. Then, the driver raced back toward the MALS-36 hangar. He rounded turns fast, causing Penton to sway in his seat.

  “Slow down a bit,” Penton said.

  “Sorry, thought we were in a rush.”

  “Yeah, but we need to get there in one piece. Spill all this ordnance on the road and we’d drop behind schedule…” Penton shook his head. “And somebody would have my ass.”

  “Roger…” The driver stifled a laugh.

  When the truck wheeled onto the flight deck, it stopped at the Combat Aircraft Loading Area. Captain Able had reported with four other pilots. They stood ready in the hangar doorway, wearing flight suits and holding their helmets with flashy emblems. Their support teams had already unfastened the Harriers and moved them near the loading area.

  Top Anderson had a crew of ordnance technicians loading the GAU-12 Equalizers onto the Harriers. Penton’s truck wheeled into the loading area, and then he climbed down from the cab.

  Wind gusted across the tarmac and whipped the rain into a frenzy. A field workspace was already assembled, and Marines went about preparing to load the aircraft, while fuel trucks filled the planes.

  They set the rocket motors on the table and screwed in warheads, and then each rocket had a cartridge activating device inserted in the rear by the fins. Other Marines loaded the rocket pods onto the Harriers. Then the rockets were slid into the honeycomb openings in the front of each pod, one at a time.

  The cluster bombs were loaded on the planes, utilizing similar poles to those in the magazines. Lifting the heavy ordnance into place, they hooked the bombs to the bottom of the planes and removed the poles. Technicians wired the bombs to the planes, so the pilots could flip a switch and send a current down to each bomb and release it.

  After the GAU-12 Equalizers were mounted to the birds, technicians loaded them with cartridge belts. The rotating machineguns were capable of firing 1,800 to 4,200 rounds per minute. Penton walked around each Harrier, checking the rocket pods, bombs, and machineguns. He made sure the ordnance and weaponry were properly affixed to the planes, and that the electrical lines were attached correctly and secure.

  Penton finished his check and headed into the hangar. He met with Kate and the rest of her squadron. He explained all the ordnance in detail, even though Kate had flown enough hours to have a comprehensive understanding.

  The discussion included a review of current Action Orders and Bulletins issued by Fleet Command on a regular basis. They pertained to safety items. Kate took in all the information and studied him seriously.

  When he finished briefing them, she forced a smile and looked him directly in the eye. Her demeanor appeared slightly morose. Penton reached out to shake her hand, but she stepped forward and embraced him.

  The hug lasted longer than he expected. Kate squeezed him hard, almost refusing to let go. She leaned back and swiped a strand of hair from her face. Then, she took a deep breath and smiled confidently. “Thanks for all your help, James,” Kate said.

  “Just doing my job,” Penton replied.

  “Your commitment and underappreciation for your efforts are the stuff my family always talked about.” Kate shrugged. “My father was always impressed with the way Marines get things done… without complaining or seeking recognition.”

  “Suffer in silence,” Penton muttered the motto.

  Kate nodded, understanding the creed. “That’s why I selected the Corps.”

  “You made the right choice for yourself.”

  “Now, I’ve got a job to do.”

  She smiled one last time and put on her flight helmet. Kate stepped out of the hangar and into the harsh wind. Rain pounded down at an angle as she walked towards her fighter. The rest of her crew followed her lead, stoic and proud.

  ****

  Penton watched the Harriers fire up. They shot straight into the air, one at a time, and then blasted off toward Tokyo. He felt disheartened at seeing Kate fly away into the dreary evening sky. Rain pelted down. The storm was hazardous enough to keep them from reaching their target. Never mind what peril lay ahead from the menacing creature.

  A moment later, Penton walked over to the Combat Aircraft Loading Area. Marines busied themselves boxing up tools and stowing munitions. Top Anderson stood in the pouring rain without a poncho. The deluge poured over him, soaking his utilities, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Come to see how it’s done?” Top Anderson laughed.

  Penton grinned. “Suppose our work on this mission is over.”

  “Maybe…” Top Anderson shook his head, doubtfully.

  “What?” Penton insisted.

  “Just a hunch… we’re not out of this yet.”

  A young private first class snatched up a few cartridge activating devices, then shoved them into a cargo pocket. Penton jogged over to the Marine. “Wait!”

  “What?” the private first class muttered.

  “Take those out of your pocket,” Penton demanded.

  “Sure…” The private first class fished the CADs out of his utilities.

  “You’ve got a dangerous situation there.”

  The kid stared back at Penton, dumbfounded.

  “A report came out from the fleet in the last month,” Penton explained. “There was an incident involving a young Marine like yourself. Put a handful of CADs in his pocket, then started walking across the flight line—”

  “Yeah?” the youngster mumbled.

  “Well, static electricity activated the CADs,” Penton said, reproachfully. “Blew his damn leg clean off.”

  The private first class stared at him wide-eyed. “Damn!” He han
ded over the CADs. Penton put them in a crate filled with ordnance. Marines hauled the wooden box to the truck, and then loaded it into the back, filled with items for return to the build-up area.

  Penton climbed into the cab of the truck. He instructed the driver to take him over to the command center. Top Anderson waved as the truck rumbled to life. Penton dipped his chin in response, and the driver pulled the rig off the flight deck.

  They headed across base and rain pelted the steel roof. Penton thought about Kate, soaring through the sky in horrific weather conditions. He wondered if she’d make it. A pang of regret unsettled him, but he didn’t fully understand why.

  He’d only just met Kate, but the thought of losing her was devastating.

  Fourteen

  General Yoshi stared at the screen. He didn’t quite comprehend what he’d just seen. Japan’s Self-Defense Forces had thrown everything they had at the Kaiju and it withstood the attack unscathed.

  Now, the beast plied its way toward the city with nothing to stand in the way.

  “How are we coming with communications?” Yoshi snapped.

  “We’re about thirty minutes from reconnecting,” the sergeant first class replied.

  “That’s not fast enough,” Yoshi stammered in dismay.

  “Our people have cut the time in half already.”

  General Yoshi shook his head. He groped around for a cellphone and dialed the number he had for Major Hira. The phone rang, but then dropped into voicemail.

  Yoshi shook his head again. He put the phone down and wondered if Hira’s tank had been destroyed. They had lost so many soldiers in the fight.

  A vibration snapped him out of thought. Yoshi looked down. The phone rang, vibrating on the console. He picked it up and answered. “General Yoshi, here.”

  “This is Major Hira… you called?”

  “Just trying to get a status from the field.”

  “Our line has failed.” Major Hira sounded dejected.

  “We saw the Kaiju attack. Our command center has video from monitors around the city, even down by the harbor. You did your best.”

  “We’re retreating now,” Hira said, anxiously.

  “Any chance to reassemble… create a fallback line?” Yoshi pressed.

  “Our tank communications are operable,” Hira said. “So, I’ll check in with the commanders and get right back to you.”

  “Much appreciated,” Yoshi said. “I know it’s tough out there.”

  “The creature is chasing after my tank now,” Hira huffed for air. “Not even sure we’ll be part of the new defensive line…”

  General Yoshi swallowed. He gasped for breath, as if the air went out of the room. The defensive line was broken, and the fighter jets had failed. Now, his company commander on the ground was in peril. “Get yourself free of it!” Yoshi insisted.

  “We’re trying to do our best…”

  “Break away from that thing, and circle around,” Yoshi stammered. “Set up the new line further back, so your tank commanders have time to get into position.”

  “We’ll do all we can,” Hira replied. “Got to go.”

  “Take care, Major. You’re a credit to Japan.”

  A muddled replied came over the phone, fuzzy and distorted. Yoshi thought it sounded like appreciation, but the call dropped before he could expound further.

  ****

  Major Hira looked through the scope and saw the Kaiju closing in fast. The creature didn’t move quickly, but each stride sent it across large tracks of land.

  “Move!” Hira screamed to his operator.

  “Can’t go any faster,” the tank operator replied.

  Hira shook his head. The tank bobbed along at 60 kilometers per hour, slowed down by the urban terrain. He patted the gunner on the shoulder. “Load the cannon,” Hira said. “And turn the turret around toward the creature.”

  “Yes, sir!” the gunner replied, moving into action.

  “Maybe we can slow the thing down.”

  Then, Hira spun the scope around and peered into it. City streets and tall buildings lay ahead. The tank moved from the industrial area towards downtown. Other tanks were doing the same, fleeing for the protection of tall buildings and the maze of narrow streets.

  “Fire when ready,” Hira told the gunner.

  A mechanical sound echoed through the tank, as a 120mm round chambered in the big gun. The gunner fired and a boom reverberated through the cabin. Hira checked the trajectory. The large round dug into the creature’s ankle.

  The Kaiju let out a deafening roar. A chill ran down Hira’s spine; the creature was close behind them.

  Hira jostled in his command seat, as the tracks grumbled over a city street, chewing up pavement. Tall buildings towered overhead.

  “Swing down a side street,” Hira instructed the driver.

  “Got it,” the driver replied.

  Then, the driver slowed and shifted the controls. The tank pivoted toward a side street, and Hira whipped back as the tank accelerated. He checked the scope again. The Kaiju continued meandering down the main street. Huge feet stomped past the side street. Massive claws crimped into the tar, breaking the street to bits.

  A moment later, the long tail snaked by them, whipping into the buildings. Glass shattered and stone façades cracked. Hira sighed in relief. Then, he clicked on the comm-link and instructed the surviving tank commanders to regroup.

  He told them to assemble a defense line along a greenery near Tokyo Tower.

  ****

  Admiral Keyes still couldn’t believe that he didn’t have a direct line with the head of Japan’s Self-Defense Forces. Nobody could explain how the communications systems were malfunctioning. But he suspected the creature had disrupted cables and towers. He watched the video feed from various locations around the city in awe.

  The grim scene looked real enough, and distress signals had gone out. Keyes understood why some military leaders might have their doubts. A giant monster washing up on shore and stomping around was far-fetched.

  He studied the screen carefully. Members of his command team stood by, idle, probably wondering what he was doing. The suit fidgeted but kept quiet.

  Keyes wanted to check for signs of a hoax. The severing of communications and the destruction occurring in Japan was reportedly tied to the creature seen on the video. But he couldn’t rule out interference from China or North Korea. Either nation could have interrupted the communications lines and fed manufactured video to cover an invasion.

  “Get me an image of the mass that appeared on our sonar before the attack,” Keyes barked at Williams, the intelligence officer.

  “Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Williams said, rising from her seat.

  “Also, link us with a satellite view of Tokyo Harbor at the start of the attack.”

  “Will do.” Williams stepped from the room.

  “You don’t think this is real?” said the Executive Officer Maxwell James.

  “We have to respond like it’s really happening.”

  “Agreed. But shouldn’t we form a contingency plan in case the Marine pilots find a pack of soldiers storming Tokyo, rather than the monster in the video?”

  Keyes glanced back at the screen. His gut instinct told him the destruction was real enough. A seasoned war veteran, he knew the difference between Hollywood and the real thing. Many officers were eager for a fight and likely took the situation as a hostile aggression from China or North Korea. They’d need to get the LHP headed around the island of Japan.

  “We are going to need a contingency plan for the Harriers,” Keyes finally said. He scratched his chin, nodding in agreement. “Either way, we’ll need a backup plan.”

  Fifteen

  Maki stared at the metal door while her mother writhed on the floor and screamed in anguish. No sounds emanated from the other side. No yelling or pounding. Father hadn’t even cried out when the door shut.

  “Maybe he’s out there trying to get in?” Maki hoped.

  Mo
ther shook her head, convinced otherwise.

  “We don’t know!” Maki insisted.

  She looked at her mother strewn on the floor, distraught. “I’m going to help Father,” Maki finally said.

  Then, she got up and walked over to the door. Maki tried to push it open. The door wouldn’t budge. Her mother’s screams of desperation turned to sobbing.

  Maki stood close to the door and listened for her father. She didn’t hear any cries for help. No pounding or scratches at the door. Nothing. She tried the door again with the same result: futility. Maki turned to her mother. “Would you please help me?”

  Her mother rose from the floor, shaking her head and crying.

  “We need to try,” Maki pressed.

  “When he shoved me inside…” her mother said, weeping. “I saw the look on his face. And I knew that he wouldn’t make it… because he knew he wouldn’t make it.”

  “Let’s try anyway.” Maki grabbed the doorknob.

  Mother wiped her tears with the back of a hand, and then moved toward the door. She shoved a shoulder into the solid metal. Maki pushed with both hands, straining her tiny legs.

  The door cracked open. Water rushed inside, but her father wasn’t there.

  Maki couldn’t see him, and she did not hear him. Only the sound of rushing water filtered through the aperture. Mother shook her head, defeated. Then, she let go of the door and it slammed shut, pushing Maki’s hands back.

  “Maybe he went around the corner to the little alley,” Maki offered.

  “The water rushed into the alley. He couldn’t stand, never mind run for safety.”

  “Well, it’s worth checking,” Maki insisted, stomping a foot.

  “What do you want to do?” Mother glanced at her compassionately.

  “This way,” Maki said, pointing.

  They headed through the storage room and stepped into a hallway. Maki led the way as they meandered through the building toward the back. Eventually, they reached the rear of the building. She found a window overlooking the alley they had contemplated running down.

  Maki peered out the window, but only saw a flood of water battering the door her father had questioned. The current flowed strong, and the door held steady. It was probably locked, she thought.