"Ready, Nail Two?" the controller asked. Tilson clicked his mike.
"You're cleared for take-off."
Tilson pushed the throttle forward and his A-10 picked up speed. Seven seconds later, Captain Jerry Tilson's A-10 left the runway and leaped into the Kansas sky.
11
MAN AND
MACHINE AGAINST
MONSTERS
Friday, May 28, 1999, 5:57 A.M.
Somewhere over Osborne County, Kansas
It took almost no time at all for Jerry Tilson and his squadron to fly to the target area. As the sun rose and dusty yellow light washed over the plains of Kansas, the dozen A-10s reached their destination.
Spread out below them was a huge brown area of barren earth. The Kamacuras had stripped the rich, rural landscape of Osborne County bare of all life, vegetation, and even the topsoil, leaving the land as useless as the Gobi Desert.
"Is everybody on station?" the squadron leader in Nail One, Colonel Mike Towers, asked over the radio. The pilots began to reply in numerical order, from Nail Two - Tilson - to Nail Twelve, a newbie by the name of Myron Healey.
When everybody had checked in, the squadron leader contacted the pilot serving as the forward air controller (FAC).
While they waited for the signal to attack, the A-10s flew in an easy figure-eight pattern over the ravaged countryside. Although the FAC reported he could see the monsters, the Kamacuras were still out of Tilson's line of sight.
Suddenly, they heard the voice of the forward air controller crackle in their ears. It was laced with excitement, even a little panic.
"This is Hammer to Nail, Hammer to Nail," the FAC said. "Be advised that the creatures are moving. Repeat, the creatures are awake and moving!"
The Kamacuras were supposed to be paralyzed by the cold, the scientists said. It was cooler now than yesterday - but the swarm was still active.
So much for the best-laid plans and all the experts' predictions, Jerry Tilson thought sourly.
The FAC radioed the change of coordinates for the attack. Jerry dutifully keyed the new data into his navigational computer as the forward air controller gave the squadron a final briefing.
"The Natoma High School is just ahead," announced the FAC. "Bring your aircraft in low and fast. Pass over the school at about a hundred feet, and you should see the target area ahead. Good luck."
"Okay, form up," Nail One commanded. "I want Two, Three, and Four on my wing. Let's go bug hunting!"
Tilson followed his commander's aircraft as it dipped its nose and plunged toward the earth. At a hundred feet above sea level, the commander leveled off, and Nails Two, Three, and Four came up alongside him.
Suddenly, the ruins of Natoma High School loomed ahead. Tilson could just make out a shattered building, a torn and riven football field, and row upon row of collapsed bleachers before his aircraft flashed past the wreckage.
Finally, he saw them.
Just ahead, filing the entire screen of the head-up display, was the swarm.
* * *
Hiram Roper gazed through a crack in the storm shelter's stout wooden door. He was sure he'd just heard the sound of jet engines above his farm.
The old man shushed his fearful wife, who held their neighbors' youngest child, nine-year-old Ronette Carry, in her plump arms. The little girl had appeared two mornings before, just as Hiram was heading out to his barn to milk his cattle.
He had found the girl wandering aimlessly along the country road that ran past their farmhouse. Ronette was dirty and dazed, and seemed to be suffering from shock. Try as they might, neither Hiram nor his wife, Wanda, could get the once-talkative little girl to speak a word.
Worried about the Carry family, Hiram left the little one with his wife, hopped into his Jeep Cherokee, and headed over to the Carry home.
But he never made it.
He'd hardly pulled onto the rural route when a gigantic insect lumbered across the road, oblivious of the Jeep. Stunned, Hiram gazed through the dirty windshield and saw a dozen more of the creatures devouring the Carry's orchard, tree by tree.
Fighting panic, Hiram rushed home. When he arrived, the electricity was already out. He tried the phone, but the lines were down, too. Then he heard the thunderous tread of the creatures approaching his own farm.
Hiram bundled his wife and little Ronette into their underground tornado shelter and bolted the door behind him. There was sufficient food and water inside, and a Coleman lantern filled with fuel. There was a radio, too, but the batteries were dead.
Hiram, Wanda, and Ronette remained huddled in the shelter for almost forty-eight hours. Little Ronette hadn't uttered a word since they found her. Hiram could imagine what the girl must have witnessed, and he took pity on the poor child.
While they hid, the creatures foraged through the countryside. Hiram heard them moving about, but he dared not open the shelter door.
Then, just minutes ago, the old farmer heard jets flying overhead, coming from the direction of Natoma. The military has finally come, he thought. But Hiram knew that he, his wife, and Ronette weren't out of danger yet. So far, they had survived the giant insects. Now they had to survive whatever the military had planned.
* * *
"On target!" Colonel Mike Towers announced.
Jerry Tilson watched as his squadron commander dived toward the hideous mass of squirming, swarming insects. The morning sun glinted off the creatures' shiny black, brown, and green exoskeletons. Their multifaceted eyes gleamed with a cold malevolence. There were so many of them that it appeared as if the ground itself was moving and writhing.
How could anyone be alive down there? Jerry Tilson wondered.
Suddenly, he was filled with a terrible hatred he'd never felt before, not even during Desert Storm, when he faced a human enemy who'd brutally taken the lives of some of his colleagues.
Somehow, Tilson realized, the Kamacuras were a different kind of enemy. He wanted to exterminate these remorseless creatures before they exterminated him. The monsters had murdered thousands of his countrymen as they slept in their beds or went about their daily lives.
Tilson's gloved hands gripped the control stick as he dived his A-10 into the very center of the swarm. His eyes were locked onto his squadron commander's aircraft in front of him.
Tilson watched as Nail One released its bombs and pulled up. The high explosives detonated on a horde of the creatures. The blast rocked his A-10 as Tilson shot through the smoke and fire and dropped his own bombs on another group of crawling monsters. On either side of him, Nails Three and Four dropped their ordnance and pulled up as well.
"How's it look?" Mike Towers called from Nail One.
"It looks good!" Nail Four replied. "Some of the bugs are down, and others are burning."
Tilson felt jubilant, but there was no time for celebration.
"Okay," Colonel Towers announced. "We're going in for another pass. This time we'll use missiles. Nails Five, Six, Seven, and Eight will follow up behind us with another round of bombs."
Tilson forgot the fears and misgivings he'd felt that morning. He was transformed into a cold, calculating killing machine - a professional soldier. All he wanted to do was get back into action again and inflict more damage on the creatures.
The four A-10s circled back until they assembled over the ruins of the high school again. Then they repeated their attack pattern, this time using Maverick air-to-surface missiles.
"In we go!" Towers cried as his A-l0 dived into the fire that still burned from their first pass.
As Tilson streaked through the billowing smoke, he saw the charred and tattered remains of dozens of bugs. Some were blown to bits, others lay on their backs like roaches suffering from an overdose of Raid. It gave him a rush of satisfaction to discover he could kill his monstrous, unnatural foes. He felt anticipation as he dived toward his enemies for a second time.
But as Nail 0ne fired its Maverick missiles into the armored backs of several creatures, the unexpected occ
urred.
As the first A-10 passed over a huge Kamacuras, half again as long as the others, the creature opened up the back section of its elongated carapace. Huge wings popped out of the creature's body and unfolded like a fan. As Tilson looked on, the enormous insect began flapping its massive wings until they moved so fast that they blurred like the blades of a helicopter.
"They can fly!" Tilson cried. "Nail One, be advised. The Kamacuras can fly!" As Tilson spoke, the monster was rising rapidly into the air beneath his commanders aircraft.
As Tilson watched in horror, the Kamacuras flew directly into the path of Mike Towers' A-10. Colonel Towers tried to veer his aircraft out of the way, but it was too late. Nail One's A-10 slammed right into the center of the creature's head.
The airplane and the insect's head exploded simultaneously. Fuel from the shattered warplane spilled over the creature's body and instantly ignited.
There was no time for the pilot to eject. Colonel Mike Towers was gone.
The dead Kamacuras dropped back to earth, burning like a firecracker. It smashed two other Kamacuras to a pulp when it landed on them.
There was no time for Tilson to mourn his commander and friend. Now he had troubles of his own. The entire horde was sprouting wings and taking to the air. Their dark bodies blocked out the sun. Their wings dashed against the aircraft that flew, trapped, in the center of the swarm.
Tilson shoved his stick from side to side, avoiding the beating wings, groping claws, and snapping mandibles as numberless creatures lifted off the ground and took to the air all around him.
"I'm hit! I'm hit!" a terrified voice cried.
Tilson recognized Pederson. He was flying Nail Three. Still struggling with the stick, Tilson risked a sidelong glance. He saw Pederson's A-10 crumble into pieces as it was battered apart by a host of gigantic wings. Just before the aircraft disintegrated, Pederson punched out.
Tilson saw the parachute open. Then his A-10 shot past, and Tilson lost sight of the stricken pilot.
"Oh, no! No!" Swanson, the pilot of Nail Four, cried. "The bastards ate him... the bugs ate Pederson!"
Tilson ignored the anguished cries of the other pilot. It was all he could do to keep control of his aircraft - and he wanted to do as much damage to the swarm as he could.
A huge Kamacuras rose into the air right in front of him. Its multifaceted eye filled Tilson's display. Quickly, the pilot armed the Avenger cannon and pressed the trigger.
Tilson's A-10 vibrated as over a thousand rounds of armor-piercing depleted-uranium shells ripped into the creature's eye. Like a ripe pimple, the eye popped, spewing black ichor into the air like a fountain. Some of the oily black slime splattered onto Tilson's windscreen, limiting his vision, until the air rushing over his cockpit blew it away.
As he banked to the left, Tilson saw Nail Four open up with its cannons, and two insects blew apart in midair. Then another Kamacuras appeared in front of him, and Tilson fired again. The monster exploded, cut in half by the Avenger's killing shells.
Tilson flew through a cloud of gore. Pieces of flesh bounced against his fuselage. Tilson prayed that his turbofan engines wouldn‘t suck up any of the creatures' guts. He didn't want to stall at such a low altitude. If he did, there was nothing to do but eject - and Tilson didn't want to end up like Pederson. He'd rather stay on top of the food chain.
Through his headphones, Tilson could hear the excited cries of the pilots in the second string. They, too, were in the fight of their lives.
"I got one on my tail!" Nail Four cried. Tilson looked sideways and spotted the other A-I0. A huge creature was flying behind it, its mandibles snapping at the warplane's already damaged tail fins.
"I got him," Tilson replied. He pulled back the stick and did a high, arching loop, barely missing a smaller Kamacuras flying above him. He came down right behind the bug chasing Nail Four.
Tilson aimed and fired. The stream of explosive shells cut the monster's wings into tatters. The Kamacuras dropped out of the sky and was dashed to bits on the earth below.
"Thanks, Nail Two." The other pilot's voice crackled in Tilson's helmet.
"Any damage?" Tilson asked. There was a pause before the pilot of Nail Four replied.
"The controls are sluggish," he radioed. "The rear stabilizers are heavily damaged."
"Let's get out of here," Tilson replied. "I'm out of ammo, and there's nothing more we can do now."
Before he turned and banked away, Tilson watched as the second wave of A-10s attacked the swarm. With each bomb dropped and missile fired, more of the ravaging Kamacuras died.
But not enough, Tilson thought bitterly. Not nearly enough.
Then he and the only other survivor of the first wave headed their battered and stained aircraft back to Hays Municipal Airport for refueling and rearming.
And then I'll be back, Tilson vowed.
* * *
On the banks of Big Creek, a line of M1A1 Abrams main battle tanks waited for the signal to fire. The swarm was moving toward them, and though more air attacks were inbound, the swarm would almost certainly reach the river in another fifteen minutes.
It was up to the tanks to stop them, to hold the line. If they couldn't, then the rest of Kansas, and maybe the rest of America, was doomed.
* * *
Thousands of miles away, alarms began to blare on the Japanese research vessel Kongo-Maru.
Still in her nightclothes, Dr. Emiko Takado emerged from her cabin and rushed onto the bridge. Quickly, she scanned the instruments. What she saw chilled her, even in the warmth of the South Pacific air.
"What's the matter?" a sleepy technician asked as soon as he reached the bridge. Without taking her eyes off the radarscope, Dr. Takado answered.
"It's Godzilla. He's fully awake now, and moving."
The crew of the research vessel immediately went to work, manning all stations.
Emiko felt as if she'd been caught off-balance. Her data had suggested that Godzilla would awaken eventually, but not nearly so soon. Nor so quickly.
"We must get clear of Godzilla -" she began, but she was interrupted by the sonar technician.
"Dr. Takado!" he cried as an image burst upon his screen. "Godzilla is rising to the surface - he's coming up right under us!"
"Send an SOS -" But Dr. Takado's command was again cut short as something rammed into the Kongo-Maru.
Helplessly, Dr. Takado was thrown across the bridge. The control panel in front of the sonarman exploded in a shower of electric sparks.
Then the entire ship was lifted out of the water.
A thunderous roar slammed against the crew's ears and echoed throughout the vessel. Then the ship lurched again and the lights went out. This time, Dr. Takado was dashed to the floor.
A second roar shook the entire ship. Dr. Takado pulled herself off the floor. Fearfully, she peered out through the cracked windows.
The Pacific night was lit by blue electric flashes. The water glowed as if on fire.
Godzilla comes, Dr. Takado thought, an eerie calm descending on her. It is karma.
Then fire ripped through the research ship as the fuel tanks ignited. Crewmen and technicians were incinerated in the terrible heat.
Finally, a tremendous blast ripped through the ship, and it split into two burning pieces that quickly sank into the dark ocean like stones.
A row of jagged, irregular dorsal spines broke the surface briefly, then sank again as Godzilla swam away.
The destruction of the Kongo-Maru happened so fast - and was so complete - that not even the briefest message of warning had been broadcast.
12
BIRDS OF PREY
Friday, May 28, 1999, 12:07 P.M.
Project Valkyrie's main hangar
Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada
According to the White House press secretary, the first phase of General Burt Selkirk's battle plan was a great success. The swarm was contained, many of the giant insects were killed or wounded, and the lives of dozens of
civilians had been saved.
According to Pentagon insiders, however, the initial assault was an unmitigated disaster. Million-dollar aircraft had been reduced to metal fragments and a number of pilots - trained with plenty of Air Force dollars - had been slaughtered, possibly in vain, because the swarm was far from defeated.
In fact, three hours after the battle in Kansas began, it was obvious there would be no immediate victory. Contrary to the kaijuologists' predictions, the creatures had proved to be immune to cold. Now the scientists were thinking that the Kamacuras had gone dormant only long enough to grow wings.
At least the initial assault had confirmed that the creatures were relatively easy to destroy. The biggest problem the military faced now was their numbers. After the first two hours, the A-10s were recalled, and F-111 low-level fighter/bombers were scorching the big bugs with napalm.
The tanks were able to hold the creatures back. So far, none of the monsters had moved beyond Route 70 or the banks of the Big Creek, despite their ability to fly.
The bad news was that casualties were indeed heavy, and the battle was far from over. The joint military command announced that the conflict was expected to stretch on into the night.
In the meantime, reconnaissance teams were sent into areas where the Kamacuras had rampaged. Civilian survivors who'd found refuge in storm shelters, root cellars, and drain pipes were quickly airlifted out.
Tia watched the INN network feed and saw her uncle interview a farmer, his wife, and a nine-year-old girl who had survived the onslaught by hiding in a tornado shelter.
The G-Force team, along with Air Force technicians and Colonel Krupp, watched the battle in real time on the giant television screens. Over the course of the three hours, they lost their connection with one satellite after another as each moved out of range. Soon, however, another would move into orbit over the battlefield.
Tia Shimura was enjoying herself thoroughly. She took to the satellite equipment the way she took to every other technical problem thrown at her - like "a duck to water," according to Colonel Krupp.
At ten o'clock, the G-Force team broke for brunch. To Colonel Krupp's surprise, the usually solitary Kip Daniels sat between Pierce Dillard and Tobias Nelson at the table. They didn't talk much, but at least some of the tension that had fragmented the team was evaporating. Krupp believed the change was due to the harsh lesson of the battle in Kansas.
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