Pacific Rising

by John W Dennehy

  Stiles finally nodded in agreement.

  They got behind the trailer, leaning into it with their shoulders and pushing hard from their legs. After the inertia of getting it moving, they peddled their feet and kept the momentum up. They rolled the trailer outside and swung it across the gravel parking area.

  Hardy felt it picking up speed and thought it might get away from them, but the tires snagged in a depression of loose gravel. They brought the trailer to a halt, jerking the rig back with a clang. It stopped twenty feet from the building. “Perfect,” Hardy said.

  He looked toward the sky and wondered how long before the Marines would arrive. A reliable lot, he could always count on them taking the fight to the lion’s door.

  Stiles countenance reflected his misgivings. Hardy wasn’t sure if it was the nonsense about the treaty or the questionable judgment involved in changing up the objective in the middle of a mission. But the younger SEAL had reason to be miffed.

  Keeping one ear to the sky, listening for a chopper, and the other focused on the road, Hardy wasn’t surprised at what he heard first.

  Twenty-Seven

  Penton hustled down an alley then stepped onto a main street, a good distance from the monster. He scanned each direction and plotted a course toward several abandoned cars.

  The vehicles weren’t parked on the street, but rather deserted in a jumble in the middle of the roadway. Gridlock had caused the drivers to flee their automobiles and take to the street by foot. Penton wanted to commandeer a vehicle and get some distance from the creature rampaging the desolate city.

  The cellphone in his pocket rang. Penton reached for it and recognized the number. Top Anderson was calling him back.

  “Penton, here,” he said, answering.

  “Why are you calling me after hours?”

  “I’m on the ground with that thing chasing us.”

  “Told you to leave the rescue mission to younger folks.”

  “I need to get patched through to the command center,” Penton griped. “The duty Marines wouldn’t break protocols.”

  “Whatever happened to improvise, adapt, and overcome?”

  “Free thinking isn’t part of today’s fighting forces.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  “Can you help me out?”

  There was a slight pause, then a laugh. “Already headed down the stairwell, now,” Top Anderson said with a chuckle.

  “Put me on speaker when you get there.”

  Penton stretched it out, walking among the forsaken vehicles. He glanced into cars for keys in the ignition, while waiting for the Brass to get on the horn. About fifteen minutes later, the phone rang and Penton answered: “Hello.”

  “Colonel Tomkins, here.”

  “We’re on the ground in Tokyo, looking for extraction.”

  “We’ve got you on speaker phone, Master Gunnery Sergeant Penton.”

  “That’s perfectly fine with me,” said Penton.

  “I’ve already patched Admiral Keyes into the call.”

  Penton listened intently.

  “This is Admiral Keyes. How are you holding up out there, Master Gunnery Sergeant?”

  “We’re doing just fine. The monster is trying to sniff us out, though.”

  “The joint-task force has devised a plan,” Keyes said. “We want to take the creature out but need to draw it away from the heavily populated area.”

  They’re going to use nukes, Penton thought.

  “We need your assistance…”

  “How so?”

  Penton kept checking the vehicles for keys. He was surprised at how many people fled their vehicles but thought to take the keys with them. Static buzzed their connection, taking it in and out. “How so?” he repeated.

  “Need someone… to draw the thing away from the city.”

  “Not sure how exactly we could do it.”

  “The thing hates noise,” Keyes said. “Find a way to attract its attention by making noise. Then, the damn thing will chase you.”

  “Like bait…”

  “Afraid so.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “We’ve been in touch with the captain of the Seawolf, a submarine located in the Sea of Japan.” Keyes breathed heavily. “Can’t say anymore right now.”

  “Guess we have our orders,” Penton said, ready to hang up.

  “Master Gunnery Sergeant…” Keyes continued.

  “Yes, sir,” said Penton.

  “Keep the phone handy. You might be our only hope.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Penton ended the call and peered into a work van. Keys dangled from the ignition. He considered the find then figured people in company vehicles would be more likely to abandon property than owners.

  He glanced up the road and spotted a bigger van. Logos were plastered all over the side. A local radio station’s mobile broadcasting studio. Penton ran up the street and looked inside. He spotted a key-fob in the dash. Stepping back, he checked the tires and noted announcement speakers near the roofline.

  Penton waved to Kate. She trotted over to the van with a puzzled look on her face. But Maki seemed interested.

  “Got orders to lure the thing out of the city,” Penton said.

  “Acting like bait?” Kate snapped.

  Penton laughed. “Precisely what I told them, but someone’s got to do the job.”

  “Why us?” Kate griped. “The Defense Forces can handle this.”

  “There isn’t an us,” Penton replied, shaking his head.

  “What do you mean?” Kate said.

  “This is a dangerous job. I’ve got to do it alone.”

  “You think dive-bombing that thing wasn’t a dangerous job.”

  “Not saying that you can’t handle a tough assignment—”

  “What then?” Kate cut in.

  Penton shrugged and gestured toward the girl. Kate looked down at Maki and the girl stared up at them, expectantly. “Can’t leave her here, alone.”

  “We can both go,” Maki said, stepping toward the van.

  “Afraid it’s not necessary to put you both at risk.” Penton shook his head. “You’ve got enough ammunition for your sidearm?”

  Kate nodded. Penton climbed into the driver’s seat and waved good-bye. She looked askance at him as he closed the door.

  He started the engine then backed into the car behind him. Crunching metal clamored as a row of vehicles jumbled into one another. He pulled to the right and drove up onto the sidewalk, trying to clear the cars stopped in the traffic jam.

  Then, the steering wheel and seat vibrated. Penton worried the van had mechanical problems. Another tremor and he understood the problem wasn’t with the vehicle. He braked and flung open the door. “Get in!” he yelled.

  Kate scooped the girl into her arms and dashed toward the van. She ran with an awkward gait, limping. Like her ankle might give way, but she didn’t chance a slow getaway. The beast was upon them.

  She opened the passenger door and slid Maki onto the seat. The girl had enough sense to climb in back then Kate hopped inside. Before she closed the door, Penton hit the gas, rocking her backward into the seat. Maki staggered and fell hard.

  “You all right back there?” Penton said.

  “My leg hurts,” Maki replied. “But I’ll be fine.”

  “Just stay put on the floorboards for now.”

  Penton took a right and worked his way toward the coastline on the far side of the harbor. He cut down dark city streets as rain cascaded on the windshield, then he made abrupt turns, attempting to lose the creature.

  A roar emanated from behind them, as the creature marked its pursuit.

  “The Kaiju is after us,” Maki said.

  “We’ll lose the damn thing when we get to an open road.”

  “Thought our goal was to have it chase us,” said Kate.

  Penton shrugged. “We will put some distance between it and us, but let the thing keep coming.”

  He made anot
her turn and the beast closed in. Its stomping shook the van. Pavement cracked in the road in front of them.

  Penton worried the creature might derail their escape.

  Rounding turns slowed the van down, but the creature didn’t seem to lose a beat. Penton accelerated hard on the straightaways to keep the thing at bay. He made another turn, intending to take them out of the city. The street was gridlocked with abandoned cars.

  “What now?” Kate said, exasperated.

  “Not like we own this damn van,” Penton said, pulling over the curb and onto a grassy strip.

  “Where are we going?” Kate demanded.

  “We’re headed out to the Chiba Prefecture.”

  “And we’re going to drive off-road?”

  “For now… at least.”

  The van jostled over the uneven ground, but pressed ahead at 30 mph alongside National Route 14, moving away from Tokyo. Maki peered out the back window and reported on the creature’s progress. “It’s still back there,” she said. “But it’s not getting any closer.”

  Kate breathed a sigh of relief, and Penton longed to do the same. But his gut told him they had more to contend with before the day was through. He made it around the slog of stopped cars and eased over the curb and back onto the roadway. The van bounced as the rear tires found the road.

  He accelerated and put more distance between them and the creature. Rain bounced off the macadam.

  Penton finally inhaled deeply. He heard snickering and looked over at Kate. “What?” he said, trying to find the humor.

  “You… that’s what.”

  “Not sure what you meant.”

  “We’ve been fairly safe for about twenty minutes.”

  “And?” Penton said, confused.

  “And… you’re just letting loose now.”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t behoove a warrior to relax, ever.”

  Kate laughed. Maki giggled in the back, showing the first sign of shock subsiding.

  The road stretched out in front of them, leaving the metropolis of tall buildings behind and a landscape of undulating hills ahead. Large houses with layered levels and sweeping Japanese roof lines peppered the hillsides, barely discernible in the darkness and rain.

  A vibration shook Penton’s leg. He checked the mirrors for the creature, thinking it had gained on them, but the beast ambled safely in the distance. Then, he remembered the phone and reached into his pocket.

  “Master Gunnery Sergeant Penton, here.”

  “This is Admiral Keyes. How are you holding up?”

  “We’ve got the thing behind us, but the van’s been pulling away.”

  “We had sight of you through Defense Forces cameras, but now that you’ve left the city, all we’ve got are satellite shots.” Keyes exhaled into the phone, frustration from a long day with little progress registered in his tone.

  “Not much to report,” Penton said after a moment.

  “We’ll, I’m sure you know satellite images aren’t the best.”

  “The few that I’ve seen,” Penton said, “look like old movies left in someone’s attic for decades.”

  Keyes chuckled at the comment.

  “So, what now?”

  “We really need you to keep that thing after you.”

  “Afraid it might lose interest,” Penton said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  “You’ve got to do something to get the thing headed over toward the coast,” Keyes pled. “Get on Route 296 and take it from Funabashi out toward Sosa. You know the way?”

  “Been out there… while on leave before,” Penton replied.

  “Okay, so you know what to do?” said Keyes.

  “Sure, draw the thing out towards the coast.”

  “You’ve got it. Check in with you soon.”

  “Sure thing,” Penton said. He ended the call and wondered how to keep the creature chasing them.

  “The Kaiju doesn’t like noise,” Maki said, as though reading his mind.

  “What?” Penton replied, dumbfounded.

  “You’re wondering how to get the Kaiju to chase us,” Maki said, leaning forward between the seats. “It doesn’t like noise.”

  “Apparently not,” Kate cut in.

  “So, what are you saying?” Penton pressed.

  “Kaiju doesn’t like loud sounds.” Maki grinned. “All sounds are noise.”

  “We just need to broadcast loud sounds?”

  “Exactly right,” Maki said.

  Penton grinned. Kate turned on the sound system and broadcasted the Rolling Stones from the loudspeakers attached to the roof. A roar followed immediately after the music blared, and the road trembled as they turned onto National Route 296.

  The sound annoyed the creature. It broke into a run, marking its prey in hot pursuit.

  Twenty-Eight

  Hardy heard the whop-whop of helicopter rotors, then spotted a Sikorsky Super Stallion hovering toward them just above the tree tops.

  The missile rest on a trailer in the middle of a parking area behind the warehouse. He figured the operation would be over in less than fifteen minutes. Then the SEALs could hightail it out of there.

  A moment later, the faint sound of a truck engine rumbled under the buzz of the approaching helicopter.

  “We’ve got company,” Hardy said.

  Stiles shook his head and checked over his M-16.

  “I’ll contact the Marines and let them know.”

  The younger SEAL nodded in agreement.

  “This is the team leader on the ground,” Hardy spoke into his comm-link.

  “Roger, we’re approaching fast,” the pilot replied.

  Hardy grinned at the successful connection. The barrel of a .50 caliber GAU-15/A machinegun poked from the port side of the aircraft. Converging on the scene, the chopper’s nose dipped toward the ground; it headed toward the other side of the warehouse.

  “We’ve got a troop transport closing in on our position.”

  “Affirmative, we can see them from here.”

  “How far away?” said Hardy.

  “Moving in too close for us to extract without incident.”

  Hardy looked at Stiles and shrugged. He flipped off the safety to his MP-5 and shouldered the weapon.

  Stiles shook his head again. “We could’ve just disarmed that thing and been long gone by now.”

  “We’re in this now!” Hardy stepped away from the missile.

  The helicopter flew past their position and hovered above the trees. Rotors blasted gusts, kicking up sand and dirt from the far side of the warehouse. Bursts of machinegun fire ignited from the aerial gunner’s window.

  Hardy trotted around the side of the building. And Stiles broke oblique to the right.

  Brakes locked and the transport halted in the driveway. Squad leaders barked orders as boots hit the ground. The GAU-15/A strafed the truck and tore through the canvas top. Rounds riddled through fabric and flesh. Wounded soldiers spilled over the sides while infantryman on the ground erupted a volley of AK-47 fire at the Super Stallion.

  Hardy advanced, then dropped to the ground in a prone position. He aimed carefully and squeezed the trigger, hitting a senior non-commissioned officer in the head. Then, he fired at soldiers engaging the helicopter.

  Bullets tore up the ground around the North Koreans and plugged holes in the stalled transport. Hardy shot the infantryman closest to him then worked his way down to the line.

  The aerial gunner sent many of the infantrymen flailing into death dances. As .50 caliber bullets ripped the enemy to pieces, Hardy fired away and Stiles maneuvered around the first disabled truck and took position to the right, flanking the newcomers.

  Stiles’ rifle fire took down troops on the right side of the truck, who were protected from the Super Stallion’s gunner and the senior SEAL on the ground.

  Bodies dropped on the right side of the truck, legs kicking in the throes of death. A few .50 caliber rounds ripped through the canvas top of the transport, hitting soldier
s on the other side of the vehicle. Stiles took care of the rest with deadly aim.

  A few minutes after the firefight had begun, return fire from the North Koreans ceased altogether.

  Hardy and Stiles double-timed back to the missile, while the Super Stallion circled around and hovered above them. Cargo straps dropped from the aircraft and unfolded, tumbling to the ground. A line remained tethered to the helicopter.

  The SEALs attached the straps to the trailer and secured the missile for delivery. Hardy stepped back and waved to the crew chief. Then, the helicopter lifted upward, pulling the straps taut. Flying higher in the air, it strained the lines. Rotors blew gusts toward the SEALs on the ground. They stepped back as the trailer jockeyed off the gravel parking lot. Once the cargo rose a few feet above the ground, and the load hung secured, the Super Stallion whisked into the sky then cruised off toward the coastline and the ocean beyond.

  Noise from the helicopter blocked out everything else.

  A moment later, the familiar creaking of a tracked vehicle came from behind them. Metal scraping echoed through the rural location, followed by a crash and wood splintering.

  The tank broke through the warehouse wall behind them, bits of wood flew everywhere. Hardy and Stiles bolted across the parking lot. They reached the tree line just as the machine gunner opened fire.

  Rounds tore up the gravel driveway and nipped at their heels.

  Stiles and Hardy ducked into the woods. The terrain dropped off considerably. Both SEALs dashed downhill through scrub, quickly descending below the trajectory of the deadly machinegun.

  Still, rounds ripped through the tree branches above them. Hardy glanced back and breathed a sigh of relief. The tank came to rest at the edge of the woods, while the gunner tried to angle the machinegun down the embankment. Hardy tapped Stiles on the shoulder and ducked behind a large rock.

  The turret lit up with more machinegun fire. Bullets dug into the ground and ricocheted off rocks. Stiles bellowed in pain. He went down hard. Another burst cut down the trees and shrubs behind him. Hardy reached for his comrade’s war-belt and yanked the fallen SEAL behind the rock.

  More machinegun fire stippled the foliage all around them, cutting holes in the dense leaves and ripping into trees and earth.