Pacific Rising

by John W Dennehy

  The missile straightened up. But it happened too fast.

  Penton held up the sign to freeze.

  The chopper whined in a steady hover. Penton grinned at the pilot’s control of the aircraft. He looked at the tail. Bishop had two fins securely planted on the deck. Just a little further and it would be standing tall. Netting had come further unraveled, though.

  If the pilot pushed it too far left, the missile would topple over.

  The fall could cause a spark of static electricity. And the age of the missile could allow a current to set it off. Maybe it would rocket out to sea or merely explode on the rooftop.

  Penton didn’t like the idea of Kate and the girl standing nearby. He wished they’d been loaded into the chopper before attempting to deliver the missile.

  The missile continued tipping left. And the other fins contacted the roof with a thunk.

  Then the nose moved and the missile titled to the left, with the fins on the right side coming off the deck.

  Penton waved Bishop away and instinctively stepped toward the missile.

  He pushed on it in futility. The missile refused to budge, but then it ceased moving. It teetered on two fins and the pilot steadied the helicopter. Penton glanced up and noticed the harness almost completely unraveled. A piece of rope barely ensnared the nose. Even a slight jar and the missile might come loose.

  The helicopter shuddered in a pocket of turbulence.

  And the missile shifted to the right. It didn’t break loose of the harness, but the fins were now a couple inches from the deck.

  Penton looked at Bishop and the young Marine seemed to read his mind. Bishop shook his head.

  “We have to take the chance!” Penton said.

  “It might fall over!” Bishop yelled in the rotor blast.

  “Nose is going to come loose.” Penton pointed. “Any movement from the helo and the missile will tip over for sure.”

  Then Bishop shrugged, acquiescing.

  Penton stepped back and signaled the crew member looking down. He made a swipe motion, indicating to cut the line.

  The crew member talked into the communications link. A moment later, the line dropped from the belly of the Super Stallion.

  The missile tipped right.

  Fins pulled away from the roof.

  It wavered then tipped left.

  Penton rushed toward the missile and gave it a shove. His effort was like pushing against a dump truck.

  But the missile teetered on two fins and didn’t topple over. Instead, the dense ordnance just hung in the air for a moment. Then, it titled back to the right and landed with a heavy thud. A reverberation ran across the deck.

  Penton let out a sigh. He looked over and Bishop breathed easier.

  Then he spun around and Kate smiled at him.

  She stepped toward him with Maki in tow as the helicopter pulled away.

  “That was close,” Penton said.

  “I didn’t doubt you for a second.” Kate sounded sincere.

  “I doubted me the whole time.” Penton laughed.

  “Where’s the helicopter going?”

  “Just circling around,” Penton replied. “Holding it steady that long is a drain on the pilot. Something you fixed-wing jockeys don’t to have to worry about.”

  “I’m a Harrier pilot. Totally get it.” She laughed and Bishop snickered.

  Penton nodded. “He’ll be back in a moment.”

  “Figured as much,” Kate said.

  “They can’t leave this guy behind,” said Penton, thumbing toward Bishop.

  The younger Marine grinned, a flawless West Coast smile. “Much obliged to work for you… Master Guns. But I’ll appreciate taking to the air again.”

  Penton shrugged, thinking the creature could be anywhere.

  Kate looked down at Maki. “We’re going to have to leave you with this kind gentleman.” She indicated toward Bishop.

  Maki frowned. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “We have some important work to do.”

  “I want to stay,” Maki pouted.

  “We’d like you to stay, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but it’s too dangerous,” Kate insisted. “We’re going to join up with you soon, though.”

  Penton shook his head.

  “What?” Kate said.

  “You need to get going with her.”

  “I’ll stay and help you.”

  “You’re not an ordnance technician.”

  “Yeah, but you can use the help. And someone needs to team up to extract you later. Besides… I out-rank you.”

  Her words were spoken with finality.

  Bishop stepped over as the helicopter circled around. The rotors blew hard and a line lowered with a large basket. A yellow inflatable lifeboat was folded up inside. “I’ll take her up with me. And you two use the boat to get out of here.”

  Penton looked out at the breaking waves, doubtfully.

  “We’ve got paddles, too.” Kate pulled the gear out of the basket.

  The prospect of getting the missile launched and clearing the potential blast area was daunting. Penton didn’t like relying upon the antiquated weapon. He was old-school and missed some of the ways from the past.

  And the prospect of using such antiquated ordnance was unprecedented.

  ****

  Penton watched the basket rise into the air with Bishop and Maki inside. She waved down to them, sadly. Maki had lost her parents and stoically plodded ahead. Now, she might wonder about ever seeing the two of them again. He shook his head, disheartened.

  The lifeboat lay on the deck. Maki’s computer sat on top of it, and a toolbox was set on the gravel nearby.

  He grabbed a handful of tools and headed over to the missile. Kate followed him and offered to help. “Like a nurse aiding a surgeon,” she said.

  “Yeah, but when surgery goes wrong… only the patient dies.”

  Penton unscrewed a control panel and looked inside. Surprisingly, the wiring and control systems had been updated. He shook his head and laughed.

  “What is it?” said Kate.

  “This might be easier than I thought.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, at least getting the launch started.” Penton considered her eyes in earnest. “Doesn’t mean the bloody thing won’t explode three feet off the deck, though.”

  “We’ll do the best we can.” Kate slapped his shoulder.

  He admired her gusto. Kate was a true Marine, focused on the task at hand, trying her best to achieve a great result, pushing aside fear and doubt.

  Penton walked over and retrieved the laptop. He handed it to Kate and hardwired the computer to the missile’s electrical system. Then, he clacked away at the keyboard while she held the computer.

  The launch sequencing was just as he’d anticipated. But someone had attempted to disarm the damn thing. Penton reworked the codes. Then, he programmed the control panel to release an electrical current that would ignite the missile motor and send it flying into the air. “This is almost too easy,” he repeated.

  “Let’s not count our blessings too soon.”

  “Agreed.” He smirked, then set the warhead to detonate on impact. Penton would rather have it explode in the air at a strategic point, but his approach was more conventional. It had a better chance of success, or at least a lower chance of failure.

  He reached into his flight suit and pulled out the cellphone.

  Penton punched in the number for Admiral Keyes. A moment later, Keyes was on the horn.

  “How are we doing?” Keyes said, calm and collected.

  “Got her ready to roll,” Penton replied. “Now, we just need to program the detonation point. Do you guys have the coordinates for that thing?”

  No response. An awkward silence.

  “Well?” Penton insisted.

  “There’s a bit of a snag,” Keyes finally said.

  “We can’t wait for you to find that thing.” Penton felt nause
ous again. He knew they had to clear the area soon before radiation sickness took its toll.

  “That’s not the problem…”

  Penton gulped.

  Silence.

  “It’s headed back this way, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do you know the coordinates?”

  “Yeah, we can give them to you,” Keyes replied. “The trouble is that the thing took to the water and we expect it’s going to surface right near you… You’re on top of the damn thing.”

  “Just give me the coordinates,” Penton snapped. “We’ll worry about extraction.”

  “The missile is basically going to go straight up and down.”

  “That close…”

  “Yup.”

  Penton reached into his flight suit. He pulled out a crumpled notepad and stubby pencil with a worn tip. He got the coordinates for the monster from the admiral. The creature swam through the ocean half a click away, tracking right toward his location. Then, he got the previous four points of its location from Keyes and charted the creature’s course.

  He scribbled on the notepad. The beast would likely surface on the beach about three hundred yards from his current location. Extraction would be dangerously close.

  “Got it,” Penton finally said.

  “Just try to do your best… and get the hell out of there.”

  “Will do.”

  “Take care, Master Guns.”

  “You too, Admiral.”

  Penton ended the call and shoved the phone into a pocket in his flight suit. He turned toward Kate. “Made a huge mistake letting you stay behind.”

  “Letting me…”

  “You know what I mean.” He shook his head.

  “No time to discuss this now.”

  “You should take the lifeboat and get out of here.”

  “How would you extract, then?”

  Penton stared into her eyes. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I can hightail it out of this place on foot.”

  “Are you crazy?” Kate snapped. “You’ll never clear the blast zone.”

  “Well, I can try…”

  “At least with the lifeboat, we have a chance.”

  “You’d have an even better chance if you left right now.”

  Penton felt queasy and reached for his stomach. The radiation from the blast was taking a toll on him. He bent over and breathed deeply, getting some relief. The moment passed and he stood up straight.

  “I’m not leaving you alone,” Kate insisted. “Besides, the mission is too important.”

  Penton nodded, conceding to her point.

  If he keeled over and didn’t get the missile armed and ready to launch, an opportunity would be lost. Kate had taken two injections; she was much smaller and younger, and so their chances were better with her in the mix.

  “Let’s get going,” Penton said.

  “Roger that.”

  “Hand me the computer,” he said, reaching out with the notepad. Kate gave him the computer and took the notes. “Read me the coordinates when I say go.”

  “Got it,” Kate said, perusing the notepad.

  Penton dropped a knee and placed the computer on the other. He tapped away at the keyboard, setting the launch code, and configuring the time sequence. “Go!”

  Kate rattled off the coordinates, pausing every so often to allow his unorthodox typing to catch up.

  He clacked at the keyboard. The missile’s control panel registered on his screen. Responding like a new weapon, the Tochka confirmed each instruction path he programmed into its control system.

  A moment later, the screen read: ARMED.

  Then a digital clock began ticking a countdown from five minutes.

  Seconds began clicking at a breakneck pace.

  “We’ve got to move!” Penton hollered.

  Kate grabbed the lifeboat and bolted for the stairwell while he unhooked the computer from the missile.

  She quickly disappeared down the hatch.

  Penton checked over the Tochka. It appeared solid and ready to fly.

  He shut the control panel cover. And then he snatched up loose tools and shoved them into the toolbox. He grabbed it and the computer and stepped to the side of the building and then dropped them over the edge. Any fodder on the takeoff deck could easily turn into a projectile hurled at them during extraction.

  Penton glanced out toward the water at the choppy surf. He doubted they could traverse the turbulent current in time to clear the blast area.

  Then, he hustled toward the stairwell and felt his head swirl. He stumbled and teetered toward the opening in the rooftop. Penton dropped to the deck and his knees dug into the coarse gravel.

  He inched over to the ladder and gingerly slid a leg over the edge. Reaching out with a flight boot, he found purchase on a rung, then latched onto the ladder with both hands and heaved himself through the open hatch.

  Everything blurred and he felt as though he might fall.

  His grip seemed rubbery and weak.

  Penton stepped down the ladder, one rung at a time.

  He made it halfway down when the toe of his boot slipped off the metal. Penton dropped like an anchor, chin striking a rung as he fell. Hitting the concrete deck, he toppled onto the floor.

  Pain shot through his stomach. He curled into a ball and clenched his gut.

  This is it, he thought. Penton trembled and threw up.

  An image of his daughter in North Carolina came to mind, just the two of them walking on a vast beach. So many regrets. Much to make up for in a chaotic military life, ruled by his demanding career.

  Fever burned throughout his head, obscuring his vision, and turning his thoughts dull, incomprehensible. Everything was blurry.

  He lay on the floor, immobilized by his condition.

  And then he considered Kate out there alone, struggling with the rough surf. He wanted to help her escape the fallout.

  Penton gritted his teeth and squeezed his fists. He took a deep breath and tried to level the delirious feeling, like shaking off a bad drunkenness. Moving into a seated position took all the mental strength he could muster.

  His stomach turned again. Penton wretched and felt a little better.

  Eyes blurry, the room eventually came into focus.

  Penton took three deep breaths, then crawled toward the ladder. He used it to hoist himself onto his feet. The dizziness waned. He started for the door, leaning forward and throwing one foot out in front of the other.

  As his body veered from side to side, he used forward momentum to remain upright. Penton stumbled through the backroom of the industrial building then cleared the open door.

  Outside, he staggered downhill headed for the beachhead. Penton zigzagged toward Kate and the lifeboat, fighting to remain on his feet.

  He reached the sand and got within ten feet of her when his head whirled again.

  Penton wobbled on shaky footing, and then stumbled toward the lifeboat. He caught a hazy image of a massive head, rising from the surf, water cascading off a spiked hide and enormous hide.

  And then Penton toppled head-first into the sea foam.

  Thirty-Six

  Kate managed to prepare the lifeboat with an automatic inflation device. Then, she worked at assembling the paddles. Each one had come in three sections. They felt flimsy, and she wondered how the makeshift boat would fair in the harsh waves under extreme conditions.

  A thud at her feet caused her to raise a paddle in defense. Just as she recognized Penton strewn on the sand, head in the surf, another movement caught her attention. The creature rose from the water less than fifty yards away. Its attention was drawn to the industrial building. Kate figured the beast had acute hearing and expected the missile heating up had it preoccupied.

  She tossed the paddles into the lifeboat and then reached for Penton.

  The Marine was large and nothing but dead weight. He’d fallen completely unconscious, without any ability to assist her. Improvise, adapt, and overc
ome, she thought.

  Kate grabbed Penton under the arms and dragged him to the dingy. She backpedaled and kicked up sand and water but managed to get him alongside the lifeboat, post-haste. Then, she heaved him headfirst into the boat.

  His legs and flight boots dangled over the edge.

  Wrapping her arms around his boots, she shoved them upward, and then pivoted his hips and released him. Penton’s lower torso dropped into the boat with a thud. Kate glanced at the creature. The Kaiju meandered onto shore and started up the beach toward higher ground.

  A moment later, huge legs and feet plodded uphill, claws crimping the ground.

  She grabbed onto a rope, slung around the lifeboat, and shoved the boat from the rear. The lifeboat didn’t budge. “Shit!” she yelled.

  Kate dug into the sand with her powerful legs and calves. Then, she pushed forward, while lifting the rear of the boat, and shoving it toward the open water. The boat inched ahead but didn’t make much progress.

  Shaking her head, she decided to try another approach.

  This time, she circled the boat and grabbed the rope at the bow. Backpedaling and yanking the boat hard, Kate got it moving ahead. Soon, the lifeboat tossed against the rolling surf.

  She worked her way around to the stern and pushed the boat against the pounding waves. Kate maneuvered the lifeboat until she waded through water chest high. Then, she climbed in and shoved each paddle through a plastic oarlock.

  Kate rowed like mad. The little dingy shot over waves, moving further out to sea. The beachhead got smaller and smaller, but she doubted they’d clear the blast zone. She wanted desperately to wake Penton and share their last moment together.

  But giving in wasn’t an option for a Marine, so Kate kept rowing.

  Thirty-Seven

  An hour beforehand, Rear Admiral Keyes stood on the bridge of the Gipper and watched a squadron of F/A-18 Super Hornets take flight. The fighters were loaded for bear with an assortment of weapons.

  Ordnance technicians, wearing the distinguished red shirts, had prepared the planes, while Keyes instructed the flight crews in a briefing room below deck. He’d explained the combat zone would be hot with radiation, and that the attack had to be swift, with only a couple passes at the target.

  Now, he sat in the command room with the theater of operations on the large screen and had General Yoshi in a smaller screen to the upper left. They fed a visual of the satellite to Yoshi’s command room. Both leaders impatiently awaited the result of the Joint Task Force plan. Whether success or failure, they’d disclaim any involvement with the nuclear weapon, blaming its use on unknown militants who’d absconded with a relic of the cold war.